...you'll no longer be down the front when some twat attempting to mosh with a blazing Rothmans in his or her hand keeps knocking into you, covering your clothes in those tiny little holes. Or, in summer, making your arms look like an obsessive Manics fan's. Now all they need to do is clear out the ubertwats who have a problem grasping the basic nature of liquids and why they're not acceptable in mad-dancing situations, and Dublin might become the only place in these islands where you can dervish yourself silly without wrecking your entire wardrobe with burnholes and lager stains.

Cheer up Atomizer. You can still wreck your wardrobe here at home. For at least a bit longer. (Treasure those burnholes, treasure them...)